


Five First Times That Never Happened

by honooko



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-07
Updated: 2012-01-07
Packaged: 2017-10-29 03:00:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/315095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honooko/pseuds/honooko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The five first times Ohmiya had sex that never really happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five First Times That Never Happened

1\. Ohno never quite knew what to do when surrounded by a group of fellow juniors, few of whom he personally knew. There was so much energy with boys shouting and laughing and jostling each other roughly, and Ohno found himself overwhelmed and swept along. Sometimes he tried to remember who everyone was, but mostly he just tried not to be left behind.

One boy stood out from the crowd every time though; Ninomiya was small and sarcastic, jokes causing him to grin so wide it seemed like his face might split open. Somehow, he was able to remember everyone’s names and treated all as his friends. Ohno too was wrapped up in Ninomiya’s enthusiastic declarations of “Oh-chan, Oh-chan’s so good at dancing!”

Ohno no longer remembered how it started, only that it became him pressing Nino into a worn couch, their clothed bodies sliding and rocking against each other in a somewhat awkward rhythm until Nino cried out and Ohno choked and both of them need to change their pants rather badly. Ashamed, Ohno chalked it up as just a random incident.

That is, until Nino pressed _him_ to a wall the next week.

 

2\. Nino was seasick, enough to make him even more inclined to sleep or respond with a waspish comment and a displeased expression. Why they had chosen to include frequent boating on the debut trip to Hawaii was beyond anyone’s understanding, as surely everyone was _aware_ that Nino didn’t handle the ocean well.

Sho was fairly concerned about him, always hovering around, ready to stroke his forehead and steady him while Nino heaved the contents of his stomach into the sea, cursing in-between the waves of bile in his throat. Ohno too fluttered around, wanting to help but utterly unsure if aid would be welcome. He frowned and made concerned noises, waiting for Sho to instruct him in what to do. But Sho simply settled Nino below deck, in the dark and the cool, and left Ohno there to keep an eye on the younger boy.

“What can I do?” Ohno asked, his brows curved together in worry. Nino looked up at him, sweat beading at his temples and eyes a little glassy, panting every so softly in the heat.

“Distract me,” he replied, his voice a little hoarse.

“How?” Ohno questioned.

“Touch me?” Nino pleaded gently.

 

3\. Their first concerts were weeks and weeks of practice and dancing and singing and costume fittings and moving from location to location, all blurred together into a mess of exhaustion. They shared hotel rooms, piling futons together so they could drape across each other, limbs tangled, talking until late into the night. It was a precarious time for the young group; they needed to build strong bonds between them if the band was to survive.

Nino and Ohno found that they had a marvelous chemistry, joking and working together easily. They grew close quickly, relying and trusting in each other. Nino didn’t like to sleep alone, and Ohno struggled with homesickness, and it was a logical solution for them to nest together in a lumpy collection of futons.

But they were both young, and it was only a matter of time until one or the other awoke with an unexpected hardness and quickening heartbeat. And Ohno discovered that with Nino pressed tight against his side, it was hard to hide his embarrassing condition. Attempting to slide out without disturbing Nino, Ohno unintentionally awoke the younger boy. Murmuring sleepily and shifting, Ohno was understandably horrified when Nino ‘encountered’ his tell-tale erection, and turning a bright cherry red he turned his head away. Nino watched him for a moment, silent and considering, before palming the bulge in Ohno’s sweatpants. Choking in surprise, the sound was cut off by a groan as Nino rolled his hand again, a wave of pressure that sent shivers across Ohno’s skin. Nudging him onto his back, Nino’s lips curled up in a self-satisfied smile and before Ohno quite knew what happened, Nino’s hand had wrapped around his cock, and Ohno simply stopped thinking. His moans and pants grew louder and more needy, and he was thrusting into the tunnel of Nino’s fingers, but he couldn’t bring himself to be even slightly ashamed because it felt too damn good. He came, shaking and with his eyes shut against the sight of Nino’s amused smirk.

“Good morning,” Nino said sweetly, and Ohno could only think that if this was how Nino greeted people normally, he’d been hanging out with the wrong people before now.

 

4\. 24-hour TV was an adventure for all of them. They were used to the cameras, used to the cheerful ‘image’ mask they wore whenever the publics’ attention was focused on them. But none of them were quite prepared for the sheer exhausting nature of having to wear that mask for twenty-four hours straight. It wore them down, and without even needing to say the words, they took turns letting the mask slip a bit. The remaining four automatically covered for him, supporting him until he could put the image back on.

Their only moments of relative privacy were spent in the bathroom, where cameras wouldn’t follow. Sleeping was disturbed, eating was invaded, and they got no peace unless they were showering or using the toilet. MatsuJun used this as an excuse for quiet, sitting in the showers with a book for an hour, until Aiba was sent in after him. Nino too was gradually losing his patience with the entire affair, biting remarks muttered under his breath when the camera’s glass eye slid away. Sho kept shooting him concerned looks, well aware that once Nino’s stress hit a certain level, nothing would stop him from making his displeasure tremendously obvious.

Making his escape into the showers, Nino scrubbed at his skin like he was scrubbing off all the awestruck stares of the crowd, all the approving murmurs and teary-eyed glances. As great as the charity event was, Nino couldn’t stand the staged, artificial nature of the whole thing. It was like diluting the humanity out and making it no better than a paraded farce. Ohno didn’t have to ask about Nino’s opinion of the matter; he knew the younger man well enough to interpret the thinly veiled disgust in his expression. Following Nino into the showers after a worried glance from Sho, he found himself a bit taken aback to accidentally catch Nino in the process of jerking himself off. Admittedly, that was one way to relieve stress.

Ohno’s feet carried him without thought, and he found himself standing behind Nino and wrapping a gentle arm around his waist, pulling the slight man against his chest. Ohno’s free hand went around Nino’s cock, and Nino let out a ragged groan that sent a shiver down Ohno’s spine. Evidently, Nino needed this rather badly, because it wasn’t more than a few minutes of him moaning and panting and thrusting into Ohno’s grip before he was gone, coming with a soft cry of release. There was a long moment of silence, only broken by Nino’s ragged breathing and the steady dripping sound from a leaky sink. Then:

“Your turn,” Nino said with a feline grin.

 

5\. Six weeks in Hollywood would be six weeks where Ohno wouldn’t be able to call Nino just because he felt like it. It would six weeks where they wouldn’t be sharing counter space backstage at Music Station, where they wouldn’t spend the night at each other’s houses for no good reason, where they wouldn’t mail each other with random ideas for Ohmiya SK. It terrified Ohno, because he knew that Nino had planned (years before they got really close, before Arashi and briefly after) to move to Hollywood and leave Johnny’s behind. It was a dream for him, and dreams die hard. As the day of Nino’s departure inched closer, Ohno grew quieter, more withdrawn, more sick at the thought of being without one of his dearest friends for _so long_.

Nino, through the whirl of preparations, somehow had the time to notice Ohno’s apprehension, and shot him worried glances from time to time, trying and failing to read Ohno’s mind. Finally cornering him by simply showing up on Ohno’s doorstep, Nino pushed his way inside, and with his hands on his hips, demanded, “Ohno, what’s going on?”

Ohno looked at his feet, chewing his lip, before his right hand came up to cup Nino’s jaw and he brought their lips together. Surprised, Nino pulled his head back a bit, but Ohno followed, using his hold on Nino’s chin to deepen the kiss. Nino groaned softly, automatically shifting closer and Ohno took that as an invitation to pull him closer, a hand on Nino’s hip. Tilting his head with a soft sound, Nino twisted his hands in Ohno’s hair, encouraging and eager in a way Ohno never expected. The tension between them had been there for _years_ , so long it seemed as much a part of their friendship as the nicknames and teasing banter. Sometimes the sexual aura was thick enough to taste, but neither had taken that final step into actually initiating an encounter. And yet here they were, tongues and teeth and Nino growling low and lining them up head to toe with chests and hips pressed snug together.

And all Ohno could think (underneath the wonderment, underneath the arousal and attraction, underneath the friendship that was so beyond _merely_ friendship) was ‘I’ve got to give him something worth coming back for.’

Nino knew Ohno’s house as well as he knew his own, so it wasn’t a challenge to back them towards the bed as Ohno’s hands moved across his waist and hips and tasted all the pockets of his mouth. Somebody groaned and it didn’t even matter who it was because they’d reached the bed. Ohno sat, scooting back and pulling Nino with him, unwilling to break the contact long enough for a smooth movement. The movement of their bodies sliding against each other pulled a shaky moan from Nino’s throat and he straddled Ohno’s lap and ground against him. Ohno rocked his hips right back, hissing at the friction.

Clothes came off and hands and mouths took their place, experiencing familiar bodies in entirely new ways. Ohno stopped thinking, stopped worrying, and simply thrust into the heat and tightness above him as Nino arched into his hands and rode him. They’d been working towards this moment for seven years, and once it actually arrived they were both simply carried along on the tide of something stronger than expected. They couldn’t last long; Nino came with a hoarse murmur of Ohno’s name, and Ohno followed immediately after.

Drained but pleased, Nino curled against Ohno’s side beneath the sheets and made a happy humming sound into his shoulder, but Ohno stayed silent, twisting their hands together and holding on like a child about to be parted from his mother. Sensing something else was going through Ohno’s mind, Nino pressed his lips to Ohno’s temple.

“Ohno?”

“Nino, I—“

“I’m coming back,” Nino interrupted firmly. “I may leave from time to time. I might travel, I might go places, work places. But I will always, _always_ come back.”

“For Arashi?” Ohno asked softly, his anxiousness calmed somewhat by Nino’s assurances.

“For _Ohno_ ,” Nino corrected. And somehow, even though the six weeks without Nino were still looming, Ohno stopped worrying. He’d still miss Nino, possibly even worse than before, but it was okay.

As long as Nino kept returning, Ohno would be okay.


End file.
